The Prize
by RKOandLEGS
Summary: After Summerslam 2007, Randy Orton realizes that there's more to life than just a belt. RandyStacy


**The Prize**

August 27, 2007

He sat quietly at one corner of the expensive bar, sulking and grieving alone with a bottle of cold beer in hand. His blue eyes were a bit dazed due to the exhaustion he was feeling from the very important match he was involved in earlier, but as of the moment, he didn't care and preferred to drown his sorrows in the loads of alcohol he was consuming.

He had lost the match. He almost had it. It was so close—so close to obtaining the championship belt; the precious gold; the glorified prize. It meant everything to him. But he failed. And he couldn't help but feel sadness, anger and disappointment all the same.

He leaned back against the fine black leather of the couch he sat on and sighed. He was clad in a black button-down polo with its top three buttons left open to expose his perfectly toned chest, and a pair of black slacks, both custom-made by Alan del Rosario. By this time, he had finished his fifth bottle of beer, and was on his way to his sixth.

All of a sudden, someone took the bottle away from him and sat comfortably on his lap, facing him. Her lean long legs straddled his waist and her arms encircled his neck, as she placed a sweet kiss on his lips before leaning back and studying his features. She could tell his eyes were filled with grief and frustration and she couldn't help but feel bad for him. He was really disappointed, and he was being too hard on himself.

"Come dance with me," she told him, allowing him to play with the thin strap of the tiny red Alexander McQueen dress she was wearing.

Randy Orton continued to stare at his girlfriend's exquisite face. "Not now, babe," he answered resignedly.

The beautiful leggy blonde pouted. "Please?" she implored. "It's only on nights like these that I get to be with you. I miss you," she told him openly. "I know you're upset. Please let me help you feel better," she finished, smiling coyly at him.

A small smirk played on Randy's handsome face. "Alright," he gave up, taking her delicate hand and leading her to the crammed dance floor. He really couldn't say no to her, despite how many times he tried in the past. She was too much of a reincarnated goddess, and he was her humble servant.

As soon as they reached the area, they danced effortlessly to the rhythm and beat of the DJ's house tunes. Randy's arms were wrapped securely around his girlfriend's small waist as she leaned her back closely against him, inhaling his intoxicating scent. Turning around, she placed her skinny arms around his neck and pulled him closer, as if it was still possible. Their bodies melted together to the music, chests pressed against one another, foreheads stuck to the other, and eyes locked with each other.

"I love you," she mouthed, grinding her crotch against his to tease him a little.

His breathing became ragged as he lowered his hands and cupped her backside. "Let's get out of here," he whispered, raising his eyebrows and smirking widely at her.

…

She screamed his name a thousand times in ecstasy, feeling the bliss of having him skillfully pump in and out of her. She moaned loudly as he lowered his head and towered her lips with his, kissing her passionately and darting his tongue in to play with hers. With one final thrust, he let out a low moan and reached his peak before collapsing gently on top of her, placing a sweet kiss on her sweaty forehead.

"I love you, babe," he told her softly, looking deep into her eyes to let her know he meant it.

They had been together for two years now, despite all the ups and downs of their very erratic relationship. He was madly in love with her without a doubt, although he knew he didn't show it enough. It was in these fervent nights that he could, but he wished he could do more than just that. She was always the better one in their relationship—so loving and caring and sweet and supportive. It was unfair that here she was, at a time he needed her most, helping him recuperate and feel better after his great loss at Summerslam.

And where was he when she had almost won in the reality TV show, Dancing with the Stars? Or the time she had her many interviews with celebrities such as Oprah and Tyra Banks, and she asked him to guest star for her but he couldn't make it? And the time she debuted in her first-ever dramedy, What About Brian, but he wasn't there to cheer her on?

He felt guilty enough as it is. Rolling over to the side, he sighed and watched her watch him. Pulling the white sheets over the two of them, he caressed her face and placed an arm over her naked body. "Are you feeling any better?" she asked, her cheeks still flushed from their previous activities.

He smiled and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Actually, I feel like I still won the title having you beside me right now," he winked, tickling her stomach and letting her giggle softly. "I think that's the real prize," he told her earnestly. "God Stace, you're incredible."

Stacy playfully made a face at him. "You're becoming a little cheesy, don't you think?" she teased.

Randy continued to tickle her. "Oh yeah?" he taunted. "How about I do this, huh?" he said, tickling her harder and letting her laugh out loud.

"Randy, stop!" she squealed. "Stop!"

He laughed lovingly at her. His girlfriend really was amazing. "I'm serious, Stace. I wouldn't know what to do without you. And I feel like…I feel like I don't show it enough."

Stacy smiled and ran her hand through his brown hair. "It's okay, Randy," she assured him honestly. "You don't have to."

Randy shook his head and sat up. "No, it bothers me that you're the only one who works hard to keep this relationship strong. I don't want it to be like that. I want to do something, too."

Stacy sat up as well and studied him curiously. She brought the sheets up to cover her bare chest, but wrapped her arms around Randy's tanned and tattooed shoulders. "What exactly do you mean?"

"Tonight, it doesn't even matter anymore that I lost to Cena—that I didn't become champion like I said I would. No," he shook his head to emphasize his point. "What matters is the prize I have now, and that I know this prize will last longer than any other championship belt."

Cupping Stacy's face, he placed a short kiss on her lips. "Marry me, Stacy Keibler. Marry me and I promise you, I'll treat you way better than any driven champion who values his belt."

Before she could answer, Randy took out a three-karat oval-shaped Tacori diamond with studs all around on a beautiful white gold band from the side drawer. He had been hiding the precious ring for weeks now, and he was just waiting for the right time to propose. Stacy gasped at its marvel and waited for the shock to settle down. Looking up at Randy with tears in her eyes, she whispered a gentle, "Of course!" and allowed him to envelop her in a hug. "I'd marry you anytime, Randy. All you had to do was ask."

Randy pulled away with a huge grin on his face. "Let's get married right now!" he said eagerly.

Stacy playfully raised an eyebrow and giggled. "Can't we at least wait until tomorrow?"

Randy pretended to think about it. "Fine," he said, before pinning her down on the king-sized bed. "I could think of other things to do before then."

And with that, he lowered his head and kissed his fiancé for the umpteenth time that night.

END


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